


Five Years Sober

by TheGrinch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst, Cheating, F/M, Love/Hate, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Slightly Dark Stiles, Unhealthy Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 17:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17565110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrinch/pseuds/TheGrinch
Summary: It's been years since Stiles and Derek have seen each other. Then Stiles moves to New York. Derek didn't want him to and goes to tell him as much because when Stiles is near, it's never good.





	Five Years Sober

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> So I posted another (non-TW) story yesterday and mentioned that if I didn't post it then it would disappear into the AO3 folder on my laptop. In light of this I've decided to dust the cobwebs on the folder and actually upload one or two of the things in there, this being one of them. Weirdly, it's kind of similar in places to the story I wrote/published yesterday but I guess than the constant bitch that I am coming through there. I wrote it about two years ago, so apologises if it's a bit shit. I remember thinking it would be part of a wider series when I wrote it but considering it's taken this long to publish, I think not. 
> 
> I apologise for any mistakes, please let me know and I'll edit. Otherwise, enjoy. Feel free to review, leave kudos and all that jazz. 
> 
> I own nothing but this story which I cannot believe I'm posting but there we go. 
> 
> ALSO, please note, while consensual this is an example of quite violent sex. I would not recommend personally trying anal sex without proper lubricant and decent prep. If you enjoy it without either of those things, that's up to you. However, I wouldn't recommend attempting sex like this yourself because the lack adequate prep and lube will mostly likely cause anal tearing, not to mention a lot of pain. Please be safe!
> 
> TG x

Stiles doesn't need supernatural abilities to know who’s at the door. Derek. He swaggers from the couch to the door and silently lets the Alpha stride in. 

The human wondered how long it would take for Derek to turn up. He’d only moved to New York a week earlier but the night before was the first time he’d made the effort to visit Derek and Braeden’s apartment. It’d be rude not to see old friends after all this time, especially now they were so close. Really it was almost concerning how easy it was to find their home to be honest. It had been a fun evening, at least for Stiles and Braeden. Derek had spent most of the time in silence to Braeden’s confusion and Stiles’ amusing. Braeden had just laughed when Stiles called Derek the same old Sourwolf. By the time the night ended, Stiles had given Braeden and Derek had his address, promised them to no less than three dinners in the next two weeks and Braeden’s help to getting a date. 

‘You shouldn't be here.’ It’s a warning.

Stiles smirks and folds his arms. ‘In my apartment?’

‘In New York.’

Stiles raises an eyebrow and scoffs. ‘You know, even you don't own the city, Derek.’

Derek’s rigid and Stiles wonders just how hard the Alpha is trying to resist the temptation right now. They stand there for a minute, the clock ticking in the background. 

Stiles shouldn’t do it, but he does. With a big grin. ‘So, where’s Braeden? 

Derek’s eyes flash at him and Stiles knows he’s gone too far as his body is shoved back into the wall, pinned there by a wall of solid muscle and fury. There’s an ache towards the bottom of his spine and for a few seconds spots danced in front of his eyes, but it feels good, it doesn't fill him with terror like it did when he was sixteen. There’s that twitch in the back of his mind still but it doesn’t bother him now. He’s grown a little in the past few years, mainly from having worked out more, but Derek still manages to hold an inch or so over him. Given that Stiles slumped a bit too when Derek slammed him the younger man is forced to tilt his head a tiny bit to be able to look at the cold face. 

‘Oops, did I say something bad?’ Stiles knows there’s a shit-eating grin on his face as he practically sing-songs the words out, he can’t help it. And he doesn't want to. 

Derek looks like he can’t decide whether to rip Stiles’ throat out or smack his head back into the wall again. However, that’s not the answer Stiles’ wants, at least not at the moment anyway. He knows Derek, even with all the time apart. He knows the Alpha. They’re under each other’s skin. So Stiles taunts. He parts his lips a little, and purposely flits his gaze between the green eyes and soft lips, back and forth, faster and faster. Stiles isn't afraid to make the real first move, he isn’t, he just wants to make Derek be the one to do it. 

It’s cruel, he knows it, but that would be more powerful than anything else that could happen then, knowing that he made Derek break. 

It works. Derek’s not gentle. Stiles is glad. If he wanted soft or loving he would have played nicely for it. The Alpha practically attacks his mouth; a clash of fangs and teeth, stubble and skin, lips and tongues. It hurts and it’s so fucking good. 

The Alpha is forcing his way into Stiles’ mouth, but Stiles isn't a sixteen year old virgin anymore having his first kiss, shy and nervous, willing to let his partner lead the way. Not anymore. So Stiles hits back. Fights Derek’s tongue with his own before fucking his own way into Derek’s mouth. Stiles tangles one of his hands into Derek’s hand and tugs, painfully. The Alpha growls into Stiles’ mouth and Stiles practically feasts on the sounds until it’s his turn. Derek pins the hand not in his hair to the wall, claws intentionally sticking into the paler flesh, and pushing Stiles even more into the wall, sliding one denim clad thigh between Stiles’ legs so that it presses tightly against Stiles’ crotch, but doesn't move it, teasing the human. In retaliation Stiles tugs harder and bites down on the Alpha’s lips hard enough to break the skin, and continues to bite even when the taste copper enters his own mouth. 

Another growl reverberates out of Derek’s chest and Stiles can’t it but out right laughs at the Alpha. At that the other man pulls back, staring down at Stiles with an unreadable expression, and it makes Stiles laugh again as he sticks his tongue out to wipe the speck of blood he can feel has travelled onto his own lips.

‘What, Big Bad doesn't like a challenge?’ It’s unnecessary. However, Stiles wants to make sure Derek isn't about to walk out and he knows the wolf side of the Alpha doesn’t do well with insinuations of weakness. And once again he’s proved right. 

Lips attack him again, briefly reinvading Stiles mouth before descending onto his throat and collarbone, painfully biting and sucking marks there that would definitely not fade a for a while. Stiles tries desperately not to moan aloud, he doesn't want to give in that quickly, so he bites his lip to the point of almost breaking it. 

A gasp escapes him when Derek bites the jointure between his neck and shoulder hard, teeth digging into him even more than with the other bites. It makes Stiles whimper. He’s not ashamed. He’s isn't afraid to show this side of himself, he spent too long as the vulnerable human to bother hiding anymore, he’s too confident in his ability with Derek. 

Stiles likes this. Likes it rough, harsh, painful. He likes it tender and slow too, filled with affection and feelings. But that isn't what he wants today. No, he wants Derek, wants him to tear him apart. He blames that on the nogitsune. 

Before the nogitsune, Stiles was happy to have the happy, vanilla life he’d always imagined, even after learning about the supernatural. Then the nogitsune came. Controlled him, tainted him, showed him things he probably would have been better never seeing. Sometimes Stiles wants to be the dominant, be in control, whether it’s a man or woman, vanilla or kinky; the nogitsune did that to him. Robbed him of his control, of his assurance in life to the point where Stiles feels that seventeen year old mess again. It’s a feeling he hates. So he leads. Seizes back power he knows he doesn't really have, but it helps. 

Then there’s the reverse, the times when Stiles likes to take. Some days Stiles is tired of having to be in control, to be the good guy with a plan and to act like nothing ever fucking happened to him when around people outside of the supernatural world. Those are the days Stiles likes it sweet and soft, the days when he wants to be looked after and treasured. There aren't many people he really trusts to give him that, especially when there aren't many he can reveal the truth to about how he ended up like this. The other times he doesn’t want to top are the times like now. There are moments when he’s the one calling the shots - topping from the bottom, so to speak - or manipulating them anyway, like now; or where he’s completely happy to be a rag doll. Either way, the moments like now are when he wants he wants to just take everything he’s given, no matter how much it hurts. There’s a twisted pleasure to it. That’s because of the nogitsune too, it showed him to this sick pleasure that makes him an addict. It’s weird, the effect of the nogitsune, the contrast of craving control and wanting to be—

‘Something boring you?’ Derek’s snide remark cuts off Stiles’ thoughts and forces the younger man to look into Derek eyes involuntarily. 

‘No, but a guy’s gotta wonder, with all this pent up rage you’re hitting me with, things all okay with Braeden?’ It’s both a barb and snark back.

Stiles likes Braeden. She’s never intentionally done anything against him and she’s been helpful more than once. He will always be grateful for her looking after Malia with the whole desert wolf thing. He’s not doing this to be cruel to her. It’s Derek he wants to hurt; the mercenary is just collateral unfortunately. And she’s the perfect ammunition to twist that metaphorical knife in Derek’s chest. 

‘Tell me, do you fuck her like you do me? All primal rage, leaving bruises and bites? Does she know you do this? Or does she only see the passionate but caring side? Fuck, imagine if she saw this. Her lover, her partner, about to fuck that skinny, defenceless kid that couldn't hold his own against anything. What would she think?’

Once he starts he can’t stop, a part of him is glad he doesn’t. Derek’s so conflicted; anger, guilt, it’s all bubbling up. But fuck it, he deserves it Stiles thinks. The claw is still at his wrist and it finally breaks through the skin, the other one on his hip doing the same. 

‘I could turn around right now. Leave you here and not come back.’ Derek hisses, a threat that would work if this was two lovers fighting over something silly, yet terrified at the prospect of really being apart. But they’re not lovers and they've spent years without being around each other. 

Stiles grins, leaning upwards so that his mouth is reaching up to Derek until it’s ghosts over his ear - a movement his pinned arm protests at - replying, before he bites the earlobe. ‘Yeah but you won’t. Because you need this. Because you want to hurt me. To use me.’

Stiles knows he’s won. The Alpha practically roars as he moves his arm from Stiles’ wrist to the thin neck in an almost suffocating hold, yanking him from the wall as he drags him a few steps before throwing Stiles to the table so that his stomach hits the table’s edge and the force of movement makes his upper body fall forward onto the table, arms barely reacting in time to stop him face planting. There’s no chance for him to push himself up properly because Derek is immediately behind him, crotch pressing into Stiles’ ass. 

‘Don’t. Move.’

Stiles obeys. Not out of fear of the tone, no, he’s curious and excited to see what Derek’s about to do. One hand grabs the bottom of Stiles’ shirt, starting to push it up until stopping of halfway and before Stiles’ can say anything Derek’s other hand grabs it too and they tug the material apart. The material doesn't stand a chance under the werewolf’s strength, shredding apart easily so that Stiles’ back is exposed and the torn remains hang over Stiles’ sides. 

Derek drags the tips of his claws across Stiles’ back, causing vivid red lines to rise to the surface as he nearly breaks the skin. Stiles moans and Derek’s claws sink into the freshly exposed skin.

‘Quiet.’

Stiles holds back on the retort at the back of his throat. It would be too easy to say ‘no’ but he wants to see where Derek’s going right now without further provocation. Once satisfied that Stiles isn't about to say anything, Derek moves his left hand to the back of Stiles’ neck, holding him in place over the table and grinds into Stiles’ ass none too gently. 

‘Yeah, something tells me you definitely don't do this with Braeden.’ Stiles chuckles, unable to resist a second time, and Derek sighs. 

Instead of answering the Alpha tightens his grip on the neck and kicks Stiles’ feet further apart, using his free hand to shove Stiles’ underwear and jeans to mid-thigh. It’s not love making and Stiles has been a little bitch thus far so he doesn't deserve anything other than the bare minimum of clothing being removed then necessary. Derek wants Stiles to know this means nothing, that he means nothing. 

Stiles moans when one dry finger is shoved into him halfway. The moan is a mixture of serious pain, yet pleasure. He was definitely not ready and not prepared enough to be taken dry, it’s made worse by the fact it’s been a few weeks since anything was last going into him like this. It fucking hurts. Really hurts. But he needs it. He’s a masochist and given the events of the past week, he needs this sort of outlet. Plus, it likes to know he’s under Derek’s skin, even if Derek’s the one pressing into his skin. 

Derek doesn’t stop, jacks his finger back and forth with no finesse. Stiles knows it’s only the necessary prep, that Derek doesn't care if he takes pleasure in it or not, and that he’s only prepping him to try and make Stiles’ beg. He won’t. He won’t need to, Derek will surrender first. 

It carries on for a few more seconds. Then the hand pulls back, spreads one of Stiles’ cheeks. A second later something warm - spit - hits his hole, followed by another wad. Stiles’ knows it’s spit because Derek’s still not unzipped his pants. He twitches slightly as he fells the liquid ooze downwards a little over his hole, however the sensation doesn't last as two fingers scoop through the liquid and are shoved into his hole, moving as fast as before. 

It burns still, but more in a good way now there’s something lining the way, even if it is spit. Stiles’ breath hitches when the fingers ghost over his prostate and surprisingly Derek moves his fingers back there, furiously rubbing the spot, making Stiles get even harder and leak more precome onto his boxers which still partially cover him, even though the back is exposed. The claws dig further into his neck and he squirms slightly, and Derek’s fingers go even faster until Stiles could feel that coil building. Then the fingers are gone. 

And fuck, Stiles hates Derek more in that moment than he has before. Derek senses Stiles’ annoyance and this time he laughs, draping his body on top of Stiles’ as he leans down to the human’s ear. ‘Spread your legs wider.’

Stiles huffs, but complies, though he can only move another inch or two, his jeans too high to allow any further movement. 

‘Further.’ 

Stiles tries, however he struggles. Derek doesn't seem to appreciate the effort, manoeuvring himself further between the spread legs, forcing them apart further so that Stiles’ jeans make a slight tearing noise and Derek knows it his legs must ache a bit and if they don't know, they will later. 

‘There we go. Good boy.’

It’s just as teasing as Stiles had been, just as taunting, though Derek can’t bring himself to care. At the ‘good boy’ Stiles had hissed so quietly that anything other than something with supernatural hearing would have missed it. Derek grins, pushes Stiles’ head down further, and hastily undoes his fly, only moving his jeans just enough to make free his cock and balls. 

He runs his fingertips over Stiles’ hole again, except this time he doesn't press in and after a few moments, moves his hand to line his cock up, then moves his hand to grip Stiles’ hip tightly. Without further warning he shoves himself in all the way and doesn't stop to let the human adjust as he sets a practically brutal pace, purposefully avoiding Stiles’ prostate. 

He wants him to know that he doesn't care if Stiles get off or not, right now all he cares about using him. And God if he doesn't like doing this to Stiles. The other man had pushed him so far that he couldn't help but enjoy just taking from him, to push the human to breaking and even if he did, right then, Derek still wouldn't fucking stop, Stiles knew what he was doing, now he deals with the aftermath. 

Stiles is panting beneath him and Derek drinks it in as he slaps against the other’s skin. He doesn't stop or slow, in fact, he gets a little faster. Stiles’ looks good being held down, devoid of all the power he’d wielded against Derek recently, taking everything without choice. Derek doesn't know why he does it, maybe it’s something else he wants to hurt, but his hand moves from Stiles’ neck where bloody crescents are left in the wake and seizes those chocolate strands of hair instead, fisting them in such a way that Stiles’ head is pulled back. 

There’s a blissed out look on Stiles’ face, even though Derek hasn't touched his prostate since using his cock and in that moment Derek only wants to ruin him, to make him cry. He doesn’t. He just tightens his grip and increases his efforts as he feels his impending orgasm. He could last longer, he has before when they’ve done this; however, it’s been too long since he had sex in general, sex with Stiles and been this angry and primal. 

It goes on for a few more minutes until he finally comes. Derek freezes, grip having tightened again in those final moments and howls as he comes wave after wave into Stiles’ hot heat, letting the clenching flesh milk him. However, he doesn't bask in the afterglow, doesn't want to give Stiles any more pleasure to get off. Hastily he pulls out, watching a thin trail of his come follow, and lets Stiles’ slide to the cold floor before he tucks himself away. 

Stiles looks wrecked. He’s still panting, lips bleeding and parted almost wantonly. Shirt hanging in large tatters and jeans half pulled down, hair everywhere and angry, red marks peaking out every so often. 

‘I didn't come.’ Stiles states, like he can’t believe Derek is actually leaving him there and then. Only once before has that happened. Derek pauses from where he’s turned and raises an eyebrow with a shrug.

‘I wasn't trying to make you come. I wanted a cum dump and I got one.’ Stiles doesn't reply, doesn't stop him leaving, just sits there breathing heavily. 

Derek wants to feel victorious and he does, but it all turns to ash when it really sinks in that whether Stiles came or not, he won. It’s been years but Stiles is still able to do it. Derek betrayed Braeden again for a boy he hadn't seen in five years before last night. 

When the door slams shut Stiles lets his head rest against the table leg and grins.


End file.
